


Special Dispensation

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-04-28
Updated: 2001-04-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 23:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14799944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of theWest Wing Fanfiction Central, a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in theannouncement post.





	Special Dispensation

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

The Schedule: Special Dispensation  
By: Jenna

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I'm just playing with Aaron's toys.  
(Voiceover) Previously on 'The Schedule': 'The Setup' and 'Week Five.'

Timeline: Later in Week Five

* * *

"Good morning, Josh," the President said cheerily as he entered the Oval Office from the outside walkway bringing with him a blast of chill April air.

"Good morning, Mr. President," Josh replied with a slight shiver. The cold and damp weather of the past few days had aggravated the occasional stiffness that would be his lifelong companion thanks to a couple of racist gomers with more firepower than brains. And that wasn't saying much considering their choice of handguns. But he had reason to be thankful for that: if they'd had the brains to use legally-obtainable automatic weapons the President and the entire Senior Staff could all be dead now.

President Bartlet set his briefcase on his desk and began to pull out the files he'd taken to the Residence the previous evening. Josh set aside his own discomforting thoughts and began to brief the president on his previous night's session with the Republican leadership on their latest version of the Marriage Recognition Act.

"...They're going to pass it again, virtually unchanged from the last time, and they'll override a veto without even bothering to count heads."

"It's just wrong," Bartlet sighed. "I'm gonna veto it on principle. Hey! Speaking of marriage...I heard Leo handed out some interesting rules in his staff meeting the other day," the President hinted. "Very interesting rules," he said rolling the 'r's in 'very' and looking up at Josh from the stack of memos and letters he was signing.

"Sir, I couldn't possibly be any more embarrassed than I am already."

"Oh, I seriously doubt that, Josh," President Bartlet said peering over his reading glasses at his Deputy Chief of Staff. "Week 17?"

"You heard about that?" Josh replied trying to appear nonchalant. It wasn't every guy who had his courtship scheduled from hand-holding to a Rose Garden wedding. Scheduled by the White House Chief of Staff to include 'Week 17' when he would finally be allowed to make love to his beautiful fiancée. Only, she wasn't his fiancée yet, that would come sometime between Weeks 9 and 13 --he was allowed that much leeway. In the meantime, Donna was merely his 'former assistant with whom he was developing a deep mutual regard,' in the event anyone asked, that is. Josh sighed and resigned himself to being the butt of whatever joke the President chose to make.

"As a matter of fact, Josh," the President continued, "I'd like to think I'm the reason you get to have a 'Week 17'. If it were up to Mrs. Landingham, you would have had to wait until after the wedding. She's kinda old fashioned that way. But I talked to Abbey--"

"You talked to the First Lady about this?"

"Yes, of course, Josh," the President came around his desk and took hold of the younger man's arm. If you're gonna get married, you'd better learn quick: don't ever try to hid anything from your wife. She'll find out in the end and you'll get a little punishment. Anyway, Abbey and I talked her down to Week 17. We explained about the punishment. That way you have an incentive to be a good boy."

"I... I see," Josh stuttered. "If I mess up: no 'Week 17'. I have to wait until after the wedding."

"Bright boy!" the President beamed. "You got it in one."

"I don't think I'm going to have the chance to mess things up, sir. Not with the entire Senior Staff and half the assistants watching my every move."

"If Donna is willing to put up with that, then the press'll be a piece of cake when you go public. You'll do fine, Josh. Just be grateful you didn't fall in love with one of my girls. Although... I am quite fond of Donna... Is her father alive? 'Cause if she needs someone to give her away..."

"I'm not sure, sir. She doesn't talk much about her family."

"Well, good thing you're gonna have lots of time to do little but talk for the next 12 weeks. Or is it really 11... 'cause as I recall you get to..

"Uh.. yes, sir."

"You can thank Abbey for that."

"I'd really rather not, sir. If you don't mind."

"She's a doctor, Josh. No need to be bashful."

"Sir... Isn't it time for staff?" Josh said his voice rising an octave in his desperation to end the conversation.

"Why yes, it is. No reason we can't all share in the fun. Call them in."

"Oh..." he replied crestfallen, "yes sir. I'll get them," Josh said opening the door to the reception area where the rest of the staff had already started to assemble.

* * *

Fortunately for Josh the President allowed the subject of his future sex-life to drop and the staff meeting had not turned into a 'let's embarrass Josh to death' session. An hour later the meeting was winding down and the President stood up to signal their dismissal. As the senior staff stood in response, the President noticed Josh twinge in pain and grab for the chair arm. He glanced at Leo, who's frown indicated that he's seen it too.

"Josh? How are you feeling?" Leo asked.

"I'm fine."

"Josh, what'd I tell you about lying to me about your health?"

"You said don't do it."

"Or."

"Or you'll send a car all the way to Connecticut to get my mother."

"How are you feeling, Josh?"

"There's a little pain."

"Josh?"

"Quite a bit, actually."

"Yeah," the President pitched in. "It's this weather. I tore up my knee playing basketball at Notre Dame and it always aches when it gets cold and damp like this."

"You played basketball for Notre Dame?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Well, I wasn't on the team or anything... I was playing in the parking lot at my dorm, but it sounds better to leave that part out.'

"That reminds me, Leo..." Sam said turning to the Chief of Staff and politely letting the matter of the President's glorious basketball career at Notre Dame drop. "There's no provision in the schedule for massages. Josh is in pain, and I think he needs a backrub," he chirped.

"What are you? His mother?" Leo responded.

"Sam, I... I'm fine, really."

"I agree with Sam," C.J. stated firmly. "Josh is in pain and Donna's the logical person to...well... you know... relieve that pain," C.J. faltered.

"Donna's not allowed to relieve Josh's pain for another three months," Leo bitingly replied. "I've got enough problems without inviting temptation by setting up a massage parlor in the White House."

"What if one of us is present?" Sam asked.

"Then why don't one of you just give him the damn massage, or he can go to see the physical therapist."

"I'm fine, really."

"No you're not. You can barely move," Sam responded. You need Donna to give you a massage. I'm your lawyer, let me handle this, Josh. Donna has seen the therapist give Josh massages dozens of times. We haven't. Also, Josh has that 1:00 meeting on the Hill, so there isn't time to go anywhere. We don't need him looking like he's about to collapse when he's meeting with a bunch of angry Republicans."

"How about a special dispensation?" President Bartlet said. "When Josh is in obvious pain" starring intently at Josh to let him know there'd be big trouble if he tried to feign pain just to get a little tactile joy, "Leo or I can grant the right for Donna to massage his back. Just so long as one of the Senior Staff is present to chaperone. How's that sound? Leo?"

"Oh, all right. But just a back rub! No exposed skin or 'relaxing oils' allowed! And if I hear even the slightest hint of White House gossip about this--" he glared the threat of dire things to come.

Josh gulped, "I won't abuse the privilege. Thank you, sir," he said to the President and glancing his gratitude towards C.J. and Sam.

* * *

"Toby," C.J. said sticking her head into the Communications Director's office. "could they use your couch?"

"I thought you were going to baby-sit. Or... 'make sure there's no baby' sit."

"You're just a barrel of laughs, you know that Toby?" C.J. replied dryly. "Josh got tied up on the phone and now I have to get ready for the 11:00 briefing... and you look like you're gonna stay put for 20 minutes. Sam would do it, but he doesn't have a couch."

"Fine. Send them in."

C.J. beckoned to Josh and Donna and smiled her encouragement to them as she left.

"Hey Toby, thanks," Josh said quietly. His pain outweighed his embarrassment at the situation and he was looking forward to the backrub regardless of the cost to his pride.

"Whatever."

"We'll try not to disturb your writing," Donna added quietly.

Josh stretched out on the couch, folding his arms under a pillow and angling himself so his feet hung off the edge of the sofa. Donna sat down beside him and let her hands hover above his shoulders. She wanted desperately to just caress his hair before she started, but that might cost them the possibility of doing this again. Better to wait and do it surreptitiously as part of a neck massage. Heaven knew, Josh needed the massage even more than he needed the caress right now. She lowered her hands to his shoulders and began to kneed the tense muscles.

Josh let out a deep breath in contentment. "Thanks, Donna," he murmured quietly.

"You didn't finish telling me about your meetings last night... there's no chance of getting the votes."

"No. We've lost that one. I couldn't even get Matt Skinner to argue for the language to be toned down..."

Toby Ziegler listened to the soft sounds of their voices as Donna leaned over Josh massaging his back. This was a side of Josh and Donna that was rarely seen. The not-for-public-consumption quiet intimacy of two people so completely at ease with each other that they could talk of the mundane happenings of daily life while one lover tended the other's physical needs. The whirling, flaming dance of banter had calmed to its still center --to the molten core of their love. The sense of intimacy was unbearable. It made Toby all too aware of the void in his own life. He felt a stab of envy for the younger man at having managed to find love amid the chaos of the White House. Toby wondered just how intimately Donna had had to care for Josh during his recovery for them to be so at ease... He frowned at his thoughts and looked back at his computer screen, trying to concentrate on the speech he was writing.

Their voices soon faded to occasional murmurs and then stopped altogether. Toby looked up from his laptop computer and saw Donna leaning low over Josh's back.

"Donna," he spoke in a warning tone.

"He's asleep." She said, lifting up and turning towards Toby. "I need to wake him..."

"No... Let him sleep. I'll take the meeting. Go on back to work. He's fine where he is."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go on."

As Donna left Toby's office, he reached for the phone and hit a speed dial number.

"Congresswoman Wyatt's Office."

"Hey, Mary. This is Toby. Is she in?"

"Hi Toby, I'll let her know you're calling."

"Toby." Congresswoman Andrea Wyatt's familiar voice responded through the receiver. "What favor does the White House need my help with today?"

"Um... no favor." Toby muttered, glancing over at the sleeping Deputy Chief of Staff. "I have a meeting on the Hill and... I was wondering if you'd like to have lunch."

* * * The end


End file.
